


We Might Find Our Place

by orphan_account



Category: High School Musical: The Musical: The Series (TV)
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Anxious Ricky Bowen (HSM: The Series), Divorce, F/M, Minor Seb Mathew-Smith/Carlos Rodriguez, Ricky Bowen Needs A Hug (HSM: The Series), Sad Ricky Bowen (HSM: The Series), there are too many metaphors in this i’m sorry, they said karaoke couldn’t be sad and i said hold my punch, this is just 5k words of ricky being sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-20
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:47:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22828186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Ricky has to to tell his friends he’s moving to Chicago.He didn’t think karaoke would tie into his confession, but nothing ever goes the way he expects. Not even after he leaves.
Relationships: Ricky Bowen/Nini Salazar-Roberts
Comments: 16
Kudos: 50





	We Might Find Our Place

**Author's Note:**

> warnings for anxiety and divorce and a lot of general sadness. i love to put ricky bowen through it

In the middle of an earthquake, as the world shifts beneath your feet, you can hear the ground splitting in two. You can trace the fault line. You can feel the fracture.

_“You don’t know what’s best for him, Lynne!”_

The _crack_ in the earth can be deafening. The closer you are to the ground, the louder it echoes. 

_“Oh, and you do? You’re falling apart, Mike. You can’t take care of him.”_

Everything you love is shaken, and every foundation you’ve built upon crumbles. It’s an unstoppable force.

You can’t ignore it, no matter how hard you try. Blasting music through your earbuds doesn’t drown out the sound, and shutting your door doesn’t muffle it. Hugging a pillow doesn’t take away the falling feeling in your stomach, because you’re still painfully aware of the chasm opening beneath you. 

And when it’s all over, if you haven’t slipped into it, then you’re standing on a divided piece of land. You don’t really have a say in which side it is.

Ricky’s standing on solid ground, but he’s pretty sure he’d rather throw himself into the abyss, because frankly, the side he’s on is shit. There’s nothing here but a stale sense of abandonment and the looming threat of _Chicago._

His mom says she wants what’s best for him, but she doesn’t understand that he needs to be here.He needs to be with his dad, with the home he’s lived in all his life and all his friends. She’s just doing what’s best for her. 

He knows it’s because she misses him. He misses her too. But he can’t just drop everything in his life to be with her now.

Downstairs, the argument continues, covering a wild range of topics — where he should go, what would make him happiest, who he loves more, and other things they can’t actually speak for. Things _he_ can’t even speak for. Things he wishes he’d never been asked to think about in the first place. 

Even though they’ve made their final decision, his dad is still fighting for him, begging her to reconsider. But she’s persistent. 

Ricky pulls a pillow to his chest and tries to remember how to breathe.

* * *

A few days after he gets the news, Ricky’s patience is wearing thin. His parents are going to kill each other unless one of them gives in. Honestly, he doesn’t know which option he’d prefer. 

He didn’t sleep at all last night. His parents still haven’t reached a real agreement — more like his mom making demands — and they can’t seem to discuss their issues at a volume that doesn’t boom through closed doors. 

During the day, things are still tense, but it’s quieter. His dad takes extra hours at work to avoid coming home. His mom hangs around the house, trying to win Ricky’s favor by inviting him to watch movies and offering to take him to the skate park. But she leaves a trail of annoyance everywhere she goes. She complains while about how messy the house is or how little food there is in the fridge. Always something. And as soon as his dad comes home, the thin veil of peace is broken. 

In an attempt to avoid confrontation, Ricky holes himself up in his room. 

It’s pretty boring. At one point, he picks up his guitar and tries to play his feelings out, but he doesn’t really have the energy for it. He’s itching to skate, but with the way the world blurs when he stands, he’d probably fall flat off his board. So he sits in bed. Mostly, he just scrolls through his phone. 

Suddenly, a succession of _dings_ takes him by surprise. He opens the group chat and smiles.

 **_Carlos:_ ** _Karaoke night at my house tomorrow?_

Yes. Hell yes. 

**_Ashlyn:_ ** _sounds fun!!_

 **_Kourtney:_ ** _I’m down. But why not just go to the karaoke place in the bowling alley?_

 **_Seb:_ ** _ooooh boy_

 **_Carlos:_ ** _WELL my dear,_

 **_Carlos:_ ** _i was cleaning out some of my old stuff and i happened to find_

 **_Carlos:_ ** _THIS BAD BOY_

 **_Carlos:_ ** _[karaokemachine.jpg]_

 **_EJ:_ ** _Wow, that’s a relic_

 **_Carlos:_ ** _i’ll have you know this karaoke machine was my pride and joy in the third grade, and i won’t tolerate any slander against it!!_

 **_Kourtney:_ ** _go off_

 **_EJ:_ ** _Does it still work?_

 **_Carlos:_ ** _yep! seb and i gave it a test run earlier!!_

 **_Seb:_ ** _yeah we did! works like a charm_

 **_Gina:_ ** _ew stop being cute together i’m jealous_

 **_Seb:_ ** _sorry, can’t help it :)_

 **_Carlos:_ ** _but anyway the mics actually sound surprisingly decent considering that the amp is like a decade old_

 **_Carlos:_ ** _oh and i also found my old HSM karaoke CDs!_

 **_Big Red:_ ** _And to think, I thought I had escaped_

 **_Carlos:_ ** _you’re never going to escape_

 **_Big Red:_ ** _Well that’s ominous_

 **_Big Red:_ ** _I’ll be there though!!_

 **_Nini:_ ** _Count me in! I can bring snacks!_

Ricky stares at the screen and his chest feels lighter than it has all week. He hasn’t really seen his friends much over the past few days, too busy with… well, whatever it is that’s happening. But maybe a night with them is just what he needs to pull him out of this slump.

 **_Ricky:_ ** _I’ll come too_

 **_Gina:_ ** _I think I can_

 **_Ashlyn:_ ** _yesssss we got the whole gang!!_

 **_Carlos:_ ** _great! be there at 6!_

Ricky giggles quietly to himself. He misses them. It’s been too long since he last saw everyone, too long since he and Big Red joked about something stupid, too long since he and Nini cuddled-

And then it hits him. 

Soon, he won’t be able to do that anymore.

He’ll have to tell them, won’t he? He’ll have to say he’s leaving and watch their faces fall and deal with whatever comes after. At best, he’ll kill the vibe at a party. At worst, there will be tears and hurt and resentment. 

All the excitement he felt fades, and the heavy feeling comes back. It seems inevitable. Taking a deep breath, he scrolls through his contacts and taps on Nini’s name. He starts typing out a message.

_Hey, can I talk to you about s-_

Delete.

_I have something to tell y-_

No.

_Can we talk-_

Nope.

_I really need someone to talk to right now._

Yeah, definitely not. 

Sighing, he puts down his phone and runs a hand over his eyes. He has to pull it together before tonight, but for now he’s allowed to be a mess. 

* * *

It hurts like hell to know he’s leaving, but the thought of breaking the news to other people is like twisting a knife in the wound. 

He’s dreading the moment when he has to say it. He wishes he didn’t have to tell them at a party, of all things, but this may be the last time they’re all together before he leaves. It’s better to get it out of the way now, right?

Despite the creeping anxiety, he’s excited to see his friends. He’s glad to be out of his house. The moment he arrives on Carlos’ porch, relief washes over him like a tidal wave. This is a good place to be. The lights inside are yellow and warm, and he can hear people laughing inside. 

Besides, everyone else seems excited. In the living room, Seb is bouncing in his seat as he listens to Kourtney’s latest gossip. Gina leans forward into the conversation, attentive and amused. Looking up from the box-shaped karaoke machine he’s fiddling with, Red gives Ricky a wave. E.J. is tapping a microphone, perplexed that no sound comes out of it, and Ashlyn is smirking behind him with a detached cord in her hand. She gives Red a wink.

Nini tries to hide her laughter as she grins up at Ricky. “Hey, I’m glad you could make it!”

Anxiety swells in his chest, but endearment is stronger. “Me too,” he says as he flops onto the couch beside her. He gives her a quick kiss on the cheek. 

Suddenly, Carlos appears next to the couch. “Alright, people!” He shouts. “Now that we’re all here, let’s get going!”

Nini rests her head on Ricky’s shoulder. “Will you do a duet with me?”

“I don’t know. I might just watch.”

Carlos holds one finger sternly in the air. “Sorry, participation is mandatory _._ Anyone who doesn’t sing tonight owes me a doctor’s note or an apology essay.”

“How many pages?”

“Hm…” Carlos puts a hand on his chin as he ponders. “Seventeen.”

Nini pouts at Ricky, giving her best puppy dog eyes, and there’s no way he can say no to that. He rolls his eyes, but can’t help the grin spreading across his lips. “Okay, fine.”

Satisfied, Carlos wanders off to make sure everyone else is on board. Ricky sinks deeper into the couch and leans into Nini with a sigh. 

“You okay, baby?”

He tenses, and he knows she can feel it. “Yeah, just tired.”

“You can nap on me if you want,” she offers. “Well, until we have to sing, I guess.”

“Thanks. You’re the best.”

“Mhm.”

From across the room, Red eyes him with confusion.“ _You good, dude?”_ He mouths. 

No, not really. But he gives a thumbs up in response. 

Clearing his throat loudly, Carlos waits for everyone’s attention. “Alright people!” He shouts. “Here’s how it goes: you spin the spinner to pick your song-“

“The _spinner?”_ Kourtney interrupts. “Like on a game show?”

Carlos whips around and grabs a circular piece of cardboard from off the coffee table. “Yes, like on a game show. I made it myself.”

“First The Choosical and now this!” 

“He’s very dedicated to his craft,” Seb chuckles.

“I like to add a little extra fun into the mix. Sue me,” Carlos deadpans. “Anyways, you spin the spinner to decide the song. I’ve got jams from all three movies on here, so be prepared for anything!”

Gina raises her hand. “Can we go in pairs? Because Ashlyn and I are going to destroy you all.”

“Oh, yeah. In fact, we have a duo up first. Ricky and Nini, get up here, please!”

 _Shit._ Well, maybe it’s better to get it over with.

Nini sits up. “Alright, let’s do this!”

Ricky follows her over to where Carlos is standing. He hands her the spinner and then takes a spot on the couch. The rest of the group is silent, watching excitedly to see what the spinner will say. 

“You wanna spin it?” She asks Ricky. 

“Nah, you do it,” he says with a wave of his hand. “You’ve got better luck.”

“We’ll do it together,” Nini decides.

She grabs his hand in her own and guides it towards the spinner. It’s hard to flick something with two fingers at once, but Nini makes it work. The spinner revolves rapidly around the board.

“The anticipation is _killing_ me,” Ashlyn mutters, leaning forward in her seat. 

The spinner slows and finally comes to a stop on _Gotta Go My Own Way._

Nini’s eyes widen. “Oh my god, that’s one of my favorites! It’s… not much of a duet, but it’s really fun. You think we could make it work?”

Honestly, Ricky doesn’t even remember which song that is. Nini’s eyes are sparkling, though, and in this moment, he’ll do anything she wants. 

“Sure. Which one is it, again?”

She fakes a gasp. “Ricky Bowen, I _know_ you’ve seen High School Musical 2. How could you forget such a powerful ballad?”

“Who sings it?”

“Troy and Gabriella!”

“Oh, and just when I thought I was done playing Troy.”

“Fine, then!” She smirks as Ashlyn hands over their microphones. “You can be Gabriella.”

_“What?”_

Giggling, Nini shoves a mic into Ricky’s hands. “Don’t act so surprised. You’re totally the Gabriella of this relationship.”

“I don’t even know the lyrics!”

“They’re on the screen.” Nini points to the TV, where the first lines of the song are already pulled up. “C’mon, I want to see if you can hit Vanessa Hudgens’ high notes.”

No, he most definitely _cannot._ But it would make her happy, and he wants to keep Nini smiling for as long as possible. He’ll try for her. 

“Bring it on.”

Big Red hits play. Suddenly, Ricky’s drowned out by the music, and he realizes it’s _that_ song — the one where Gabriella leaves — and shit, this is a terrible idea. But Nini is beaming up at him, and he decides his only job right now is to keep his shit together and sing.

_“I gotta say what’s on my mind_

_Something about us_

_doesn’t seem right these days_

_Life keeps getting in the way_

_Whenever we try_

_Somehow the plan_

_Is always rearranged_

_It’s so hard to say_

_But I’ve got to do what’s best for me_

_You’ll be okay.”_

Are lyrics from _High School Musical 2,_ of all things, supposed to feel this personal? 

He can ignore it. Probably.

_“I’ve got to move on and be who I am_

_I just don’t belong here_

_I hope you understand_

_We might find our place in this world someday_

_But at least for now_

_I gotta go my own way.”_

Nope. This is too much. This feels too true, too intimate, and he wonders if anyone else can tell how hard it hits. 

Seemingly not. He looks down and sees Big Red smiling fondly, Ashlyn nodding her head to the beat. Seb is watching intently. Even Carlos, E.J. and Kourtney seem unaware of Ricky’s shaky voice. 

But he doesn’t know how long it can last. This instrumental pause is so _long,_ and his chest feels so _tight,_ and he can’t even tell what he’s thinking but it’s sure as hell not good. He grips the microphone in a tight fist.

_“Don’t wanna leave it all behind_

_But I get my hopes up_

_And I watch them fall every time_

_Another color turns to gray_

_And it’s just too hard_

_To watch it all_

_Slowly fade away.”_

Nini is looking at him like he hung the stars in the sky, and he really doesn’t deserve it. He’s about to knock them down.

_“I’m leaving today_

_‘Cause I gotta do what’s best for me_

_You’ll be okay.”_

No, she won’t. 

_“I’ve got to move on and be who I am_

_I just don’t belong here_

_I hope you understand_

_We might find our place in this world someday_

_But at least for now_

_I gotta go my own way.”_

She’s taking notice of his white knuckles now, eyeing him with growing concern. He doesn’t want her to worry, so he offers a small smile, but she doesn’t seem convinced. His eyes are starting to sting, after all, and the dim lighting probably doesn’t hide it.

He wants to hide it. He wants to have a fun night with his friends. He wants to stay here forever. Fuck, why is it so _hard?_

_“What about us?_

_What about everything we’ve been through?”_

Nini’s voice is angelic, as always. But that doesn’t make it any easier to hear. 

_“What about trust?”_

_“You know I never wanted to hurt you.”_

_“What about me?”_

_“What am I supposed to do?”_

_“I gotta leave, but I’ll miss you.”_ Ricky’s voice just _barely_ avoids breaking completely, and his throat burns. 

That’s it. His lip is wobbling and his face is flushing and he’s _done._

He stumbles off the stage and then makes a break for it. He drops the microphone. Looking anywhere but at the confused expressions on his friends’ faces, he blindly pushes through the front door. He steps into the cold breeze with tears in his eyes and an apology stuck in his throat.

* * *

The freezing air on Carlos’ porch is enough to make Ricky shiver. But then again, there are other things he could blame for the trembling.

As soon as he pulls himself together, he’ll go back inside. He’ll explain everything and tell the truth. But _God,_ the thought of that makes his stomach churn.

For now, he can only sit on this bench struggling to catch his breath. It shouldn’t be such a chore, but it gets harder every minute and he doesn’t know how much longer he can do it. He really wishes he had a pillow to hug. Or his hoodie. Or anything, really. 

The funny thing is, he hasn’t even _done_ the thing he’s anxious for yet. Something else set him spiralling — some stupid little thing that was supposed to be fun. And if he’s already falling apart, what will it be like when he tells them?

He’s surprised to feel a tear slipping down his cheek. His hand is cold against his cheek as he wipes it away quickly, because he can’t cry. He can’t. So he buries his face in his hands and tries to ignore the wet droplets darkening the wood beneath his feet.

“Ricky?”

_Shit._

Startled, he looks up at Nini, wiping his face harshly. She shouldn’t see him breaking down. 

He can’t look at her. Her smile is too soft and her eyes are too sad. “Baby, I know you’ve been crying,” she says softly. “It’s okay.”

And that’s the only invitation he needs to come undone. 

“No, it’s not,” he chuckles through tears. “I think it’s the farthest from okay that it’s ever been.”

Nini sucks in a breath. She slowly inches her way over, and the bench creaks as she takes a seat beside him. “You know you can talk to me, right?”

He really wishes he could. 

“I’m here for you,” she continues. “And I want to help you be okay.”

“It’s… it’s really bad this time, Nini.”

“Whatever it is, just say it.”

Easier said than done. 

Casting his eyes to the floor, he musters up his courage and wills it to stay with him, just for a moment. Before it can leave, he blurts, “I’m moving to Chicago.”

And suddenly, it’s painfully quiet. Or maybe the thrumming in his ears is just drowning out the noise. He looks up at her, but he can only meet her eyes for a second. They’re wide and glassy.

Guilt floods through him, whispering, _you fucked up._

“Oh,” Nini murmurs.

_Oh._

“I’m sorry,” Ricky breathes. “I don’t want to go, I promise. I don’t want to.”

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m not mad.”

“You’re crying.”

“So are you,” Nini counters. “Of course I’m upset, Ricky, but not with you _._ It’s not your fault.”

He can’t even tell if she’s lying. Behind the outward expression of surprise, she mostly just looks concerned. But she’s an actress.

Her weight shifts on the bench, and for a minute he fears that she’s going to get up and walk away. He wouldn’t blame her, honestly. But then there’s a warmth encompassing his hand, and her fingers are slipping gently between his.

“I don’t know what to do, Nini.”

“Just take it one step at a time.” She squeezes his hand. “First step, please talk to me. You’ll feel a little better once you get it off your chest.”

Ricky sighs. “Well, my mom… my mom came back last week, and she’s been staying at our house. She and my dad have been arguing a lot. Apparently she wants to take me back with her. And my dad is fighting her on it, but it doesn’t look good.”

“Does she have custody?”

“They haven’t even been to court yet.”

“Well, I don’t know if she’s allowed to have you live with her, then.”

“Yeah, I don’t think she cares a lot about what's _allowed.”_

The thing is, his mom is powerful and his dad is scared. He’s looked up the statistics. Mothers get custody over seventy percent of the time. That — plus the fact that she’s high up at her company —gives her some sway in court. Whenever his mom brings up an official divorce, he sees the determined look in her eyes and the frightened look in his dad’s, and he’s pretty sure they know that too. 

“It’s just really difficult,” Ricky continues. “If they went through with it, she’d try to make it so he couldn’t legally see me at all. And he’s pissed, but he doesn’t know what to do.”

“That’s really intense, Ricky. I’m sure my Momma D could help your dad.”

”Thanks,” Ricky mutters. But he knows that enlisting Dana’s help wouldn’t work. There won’t be any chance for lawyers.

“That’s not our problem right now, though.” Nini looks up to meet Ricky’ eyes. “How do you feel about all this?”

That’s a loaded question. He’s feeling too many emotions to count right now, but the first one that comes to mind is the one that sits the heaviest.

“I’m scared.”

Nini hums and gives his hand a squeeze, willing him to go on.

“It’s just hard to believe that things can change things like this. It’s like… I _just_ got my life together — I’m back with you, and I have more friends, and I’m close with my dad — and then suddenly she just comes and pulls the rug.”

“That is pretty scary. And it’s unfair to you.”

“Yeah,” Ricky sighs. “I don’t want to be mad at her, but I am.”

“That’s okay. You have every right to be angry.”

Something about hearing that releases a bit of the tension in his chest. 

“It’s just shitty that my life has to revolve around her decision. I’m going to lose everything I have here. Everything I care about. I won’t get to see any of you guys anymore, and it’s unfair to everyone _._ I mean, Gina _just_ moved here so she could spend time with us. And Big Red… God, we’ve been together through everything, Nini. And _you—“_

He doesn’t even know how to finish his thought. Words can’t express what he feels for her, or what he’s _going_ to feel when he can’t have her. 

Nini is quiet as her thumb runs circles around his fingers. She’s such a good listener, so caring and supportive, and he’s really starting to realize what he’s about to lose. 

“Shit. What are we gonna do?”

“What do you mean?”

“What are _we_ going to do, Nini? Can we make long-distance work? Do you… do you want to break up?”

She winces, surprised. “Do you want to?”

 _“No._ No, I don’t. But I completely understand if you do.”

“Neither do I. How many times do I have to say I love you before you realize I mean it?”

“I know you mean it, but…”

But distance does fucked up things to love. A few days in Chicago were all it took to stop hearing from his mom. A few weeks started the hushed fights over the phone. A few months were enough to tear everything apart. 

“I’m always going to love you, Ricky. You’re my best friend. My family. And that’s never going to change. 

“I think I’ll be gone a _long time,_ Nini.”

“I’ll wait for you. We all will.”

“You shouldn’t _have to_.”

He’s become pretty desensitized to the tears sliding down his cheeks, but he knows they’re coming quicker now. His cheeks are red and raw, his eyes still aching with a dull sting.

“We’re always going to be here for you, no matter how far away you are. We can text and call. And you can come back and visit for the holidays, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Mhm. And that’s enough. We’ll figure it out as we go, okay?”

Even as he feels himself slipping, Ricky doesn’t bother trying to stop it. He’s learned that nothing can really be controlled anymore. So he nods, chokes on a sob, and buries his face in Nini’s shoulder. 

Nini wraps her arms around his trembling form and pulls him in closer. Her hands clench tightly around his shirt, clinging onto him like it’s the last time. 

It could be.

“I love you,” he cries. 

“I love you too, baby.”

She doesn’t mention the way his voice breaks or the way her shirt is growing wet. She just cards her fingers through his hair. 

After what feels like ages, Ricky finally pulls away, feeling as close to calm as he cam be. Nini’s presence next to him is peaceful and warm. Everything is safe. 

She cups his face and gently runs her thumb across his cheek, wiping away the last tears. “You okay now?”

“Yeah,” he sniffs. “Thank you.”

“Any time. So, what now? Do you want to go home?”

As terrified as he is, he’d rather face his friends than go back home.

“We could go back to my house,” Nini says, as if reading his mind. “I’m sure my moms wouldn’t mind.”

“That’s okay. I think I’ll go back inside. They deserve an explanation.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I think they should know.”

“Alright.” Nini stands, firm on her feet, and holds out a hand to help Ricky up. “I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

He takes her hand again and stands on wobbling legs. Shit, he’s scared. But still, he smiles, and she smiles back at him, and everything feels sort of like it’s falling into place.

“I know.”

* * *

The atmosphere in Carlos’ living room is so tense it’s funny. When Ricky walks in, everyone is doing a poor job of pretending not to stare. They obviously don’t know how to bring it up.

It’s kind of like someone shouted _“act natural!”_ and gave them ten seconds to busy themselves. E.J. stands stiffly in the corner, making forced conversation with Ashlyn and sipping punch between pauses. Seb and Carlos are looking through Carlos’ makeshift setlist. Kourtney twists a microphone cord idly between her fingers. Gina is passing around the cookies she brought, but she eyes Ricky and Nini warily. From his seat on the couch, Big Red is just staring at them with worry, wringing his hands together. 

“We were all pretty worried,” Nini mumbles into his ear. “Red and Gina wanted to come find you, too.”

Ah. That explains a lot. 

Gina sets down the plate of cookies and strides towards them. Big Red suddenly shoves himself off the couch and walks over as well. It’s like a competition to see who can ask him _what the fuck just happened_ first.

Big Red places a gentle hand on Ricky’s shoulder. “Hey, man, are you okay?” 

“Yeah, I’m good. Sorry.” I didn’t mean to cause a scene.”

“Oh, please.” Gina shakes her head. “We’re theatre kids. We’re used to a little drama. We’re just glad you’re alright.”

“So, what was that about?”

“Uh… it’s hard to explain. Home stuff. I want to tell you guys, but I have to tell _all_ of you.”

Red’ face pales. “That can’t be good.”

That’s an understatement. 

Stepping back apprehensively, Red sits cross-legged on the floor and stares up at him. Gina takes a seat on the arm of the couch and beckons EJ and Ashlyn over. Kourtney stands on the side next to Carlos and Seb. All eyes are on Ricky. 

Nini squeezes his hand in reassurance, and his hand tightens around hers like a vice. 

“Alright, guys!” Ricky shouts, voice wavering. “I have to tell you something. And I don’t know how to put it lightly, so I’m just gonna say it.”

Deep breath.

“I’m moving to Chicago.”

The effect is instant. Red goes rigid. Gina’s eyes go wide. From all sides, voices overlap frantically. It’s painfully loud and completely incomprehensible.

“I know!” Ricky yells. “I know. It’s bad. Please let me explain.”

Gradually, the chattering dies. Gina elbows E.J. in the side to shut him up, and then nods at Ricky. Along with panic, there’s understanding in her eyes. Ricky realizes she must know firsthand how difficult this is. 

“I know we all have a lot of questions,” Gina says calmly, eyeing the rest of the group. “So let’s do this one at a time, yeah?”

Thank god for Gina Porter. 

“I’ll go first. Why are you leaving?”

“My mom wants me to live with her.”

“And do _you_ want to?”

He shakes his head. “No. I promise I don’t.”

“Is there anything we can do to help?”

That one catches him off guard. “No, I don’t think so.”

“You’re sure?” Big Red’s voice is shaky. “You’re sure you have to go?”

Ricky glances downwards, and Red is staring up at him with glassy eyes. His stomach drops to the floor. In all their years of friendship, Ricky has only seen Red cry a handful of times. He’s the kind of person who holds sadness in with a smile. The fact that he’s tearing up goes to show that Ricky has _massively_ fucked up a perfectly good friendship.

For the millionth time that night, Ricky tries to blink back tears. “God, Red, I _wish_ there was something I could do. I’d never leave you guys unless I had to.”

Red looks to to the floor, and Ashlyn leans forward to put a comforting hand on his shoulder. Ricky wishes he could do something more for him. 

“So you don’t have any choice?” E.J. cuts in. “That’s bullshit! On your mom’s part, I mean.”

“Agreed!” Ashlyn says.

“Seconded!” Seb adds. “Or… thirded?”

“I think we can _all_ agree that that is some Grade A bullshit,” Kourtney declares. 

“When do you have to go?” Carlos asks. 

Ricky rubs the nape of his neck. “Soon.”

 _“How_ soon?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe a week?”

Beside him, Nini gasps. “Only a few days?”

“She wants to go as soon as we can,” Ricky sighs shakily. “I’m sorry, guys. Shit. I’m really sorry.”

Red sniffs. “It’s not your fault, dude.”

The room falls silent and stiff. He glances around uncomfortably, taking in the shock and hurt lingering on his friends’ faces. He doesn’t know how to fix this.

Suddenly, Carlos shoots upright in his seat with a burst of energy. “Okay, that’s it. If you’re going out, Ricky you’re going out with a bang! I say we keep going — if you’re up for it, of course — and have a going away party.”

The others look at him nervously. Karaoke seems like the last thing they should be doing right now. But then again, it’s better than sitting around and moping, and he wants to enjoy the time he has left with his friends.

Ricky nods. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s a great idea.”

“But first,” Gina says, “think it’s time for a hug.”

She stands confidently and waves the rest of the group over as she approaches Ricky. Nini steps aside to allow them some privacy, but Gina pulls her into the embrace. And then comes Red, who squeezes his way between the two girls and clutches Ricky’s shirt like a lifeline. Behind him, the rest of the group joins in.

Overtaken by warmth and tenderness and the fleeting feeling of _home,_ Ricky can’t hold back a tentative smile. “What team?” 

_“Wildcats!”_

* * *

Four days and a several karaoke songs later, it’s finally time. There’s nothing left to do.

It’s a couple days earlier than Ricky expected, so there’s not much time to say goodbye, but maybe that’s for the best. He doesn’t know if he could take seeing his friends today. That would only make it harder to leave.

He doesn’t tell them when they start moving his luggage to the van out front. He doesn’t tell them that his room is empty, save for a bedframe and a pile of clothes to donate. Instead, he sends a simple text: _Turns out today’s the day. Love you guys. Thanks for being my family._

It’s short and sweet and to the point. He wishes it could be like that with _everyone_ in his family, but it’s never that easy. 

As Ricky’s mom starts the car, his dad stands on the grass with teary eyes. He clearly doesn’t want his son to know he’s been crying, but he’s always been pretty bad at pulling himself together. And today, Ricky can’t really blame him. 

He pulls Ricky into a bone-crushing hug. It’s protective and desperate, and it stings his soul like antiseptic on an open wound. 

“I love you, Ricky,” his dad says with a wavering voice. “I love you more than anything. Remember that.”

Ricky’s mouth is dry and his heart is heavy. “I love you, too, dad. So much.”

Words aren’t enough. The hug isn’t enough. Nothing really ever _could_ be enough to express it. So he settles for closing his eyes and letting his dad ruffle his hair one last time.

From the driver’s seat, his mom honks the horn impatiently.

Ricky pulls away, because he’s pretty sure if he didn’t, the hug would never end. “Love you,” he mumbles again as he climbs into the passenger seat. 

Strangely enough, Ricky can’t seem to cry. Maybe he’s too tired. But that doesn’t prevent the helpless regret piling in his stomach as the van begins to move, screaming _go back, go back, go back._

He tries to not to look back, but he can’t keep from glancing in the rear-view mirror. He catches a glimpse of his dad staring hopelessly through the back window at him. There’s so much grief in his eyes, Ricky feels like he should be in the back of a hearse instead of a rented minivan. 

In a way, he supposes, this is sort of like a death. His whole life in Salt Lake is over. But he’s done enough grieving on his own, and the thought of anyone else doing it makes his skin crawl. 

He doesn’t want this. There’s a fine line between being missed and being mourned.

When he boards a plane to Chicago an hour later, he feels like a ghost. A casualty of the fall after the fracture. 

He decides _he’s_ allowed to mourn, as long as he does it quietly.

**Author's Note:**

> edit via october 2020: if you’re still here, then thanks for reading!! i can’t believe anyone would still be interested in this old fic, but if you are then i really appreciate it! :)
> 
> however, i’m unhappy with how this turned out, and i’ve decided to orphan it because i physically cringe whenever i see it in my works. i’m still a very inexperienced writer now, but at the time i posted this, i was worse. i just don’t think this work reflects my writing abilities anymore. (i’ll probably orphan my other hsmtmts fic as well, but i’m a bit more attached to that one, so... we’ll see?) BUT the support this fic received honestly means the world to me, and please know that if you ever commented or left kudos here, it made a huge difference to my horrible 15-year-old self-esteem. even though i’ve left the hsmtmts fandom now, i’m going to continue writing in other fandoms, and that’s only possible because of the people who told me they believed in me at the very beginning. 
> 
> in other news, i had a second chapter in mind at one point, so if you’re wondering, here’s a rough outline of what i remember:   
> -ricky is miserable in chicago. the gang at home stays in touch with him, and at first he’s pretty open about his dislike of the new environment, but he holds back on telling them everything because in this house we Repress Our Emotions  
> -nini’s moms know a lawyer or one of them is a lawyer? i don’t remember. but mike decided to fight for custody. because lynne didn’t take ricky legally, the odds are more in his favor than he’d previously thought. (plus the fact that ricky’s a whole teenager and should be able to decide who’s best for him to stay with.)  
> -lots of angst, some sad phone calls home, some fights between ricky and lynne about how out of place he feels. she doesn’t pay much attention to him despite insisting that he live with her   
> -mike is pissed. he’s just pissed. i love when dads get angry on behalf of their children so i had to throw in some of that  
> -i can’t recall what came next in my outline but i know in the end ricky winds up back home!! he gets to see his friends again, there’s some cute tender family stuff with him and his dad, you know, Happy Ending Stuff
> 
> thanks again for reading! i hope you’re staying healthy and safe in this weird ass time. peace out


End file.
